Kral nodded. “I’d rather you both stay, but I understand. Let me write a few letters so you can get back to us.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Revkom gave their answer a few days after Nikolai’s delegation made their offer. They would not turn over the gold, nor would they release Kolchak.
Nikolai seemed to have a permanent frown etched onto his face now, so different from the mischievous boy from Nadia’s memory. But she, too, was changed. War did that to people. It sucked out the laughter and smothered the joy. “I’ll take you and Tanya back,” he said. “I’m sorry the Czechs wouldn’t help you.”
Was Nadia better off staying with the White Army or chasing the legion and hoping Filip would send help? Staying in Irkutsk was dangerous, and thousands of other refugees fought for the food and shelter she would need. But would she ever find Filip if she returned to the Whites?
There was another possibility she had to consider. A year had passed since her abduction, and Filip was a soldier, vulnerable to bullets and subject to the myriad epidemics that raged across Siberia. He might be dead.
Sokolov tugged at the cuff of his glove. “We could use a pair of lookouts.”
“No.” Nikolai’s reply was immediate. “I’m taking her back where she’ll be safe.” He huffed. “Safer than with us anyhow. I doubt anywhere in Russia is safe right now.”
“She was useful when we escaped from our labor battalion.” Sokolov crossed his arms.
“She’s not a soldier.”
Nadia cleared her throat so the two of them would stop talking over her. “What are you planning? Perhaps I should be the one to decide whether or not I can help.”
Nikolai glanced outside the boxcar, then lowered his voice. “Revkom isn’t cooperating, so Voitsekhovsky will attack. And if Voitsekhovsky takes the city, we’ll take the gold.”
“Unless Revkom tries to move it.” Sokolov planted his legs in a firm stance, as if digging in for an argument.
“They can’t move it by rail. We’re blocking the way west, and to the east are the Czechs, the Japanese, and Semenov.” Nikolai rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Voitsekhovsky might take the city, but he can’t hold it. Most of the gold is still in boxcars under heavy guard—heavier than we could get past. But one of Revkom’s men managed to transfer part of it to his personal boxcar.”
Sokolov smiled. “And Tanya saw where.”
“So you’re planning to take it?”
Nikolai nodded. “An army can’t fight without money. With that gold, we can buy real boots for our men instead of the rags and bark they’re using now. Rifles, ammunition, artillery. A chance to save Russia from the Bolsheviks.”
He was just like Papa, only Papa hadn’t included Nadia in his plans. “Let me help.” She was a Linsky—how could she not do everything in her power to save her homeland?
“I’d rather you return to the camp.”
“So I can freeze to death with the rest of them? Or catch typhus?” She wanted to help her brother. She’d already lost him once. She didn’t want to lose him again, not when her efforts might mean the difference between success and failure. “Let me stay.”
Nikolai looked at her for a long time. Finally, he nodded. “Just as lookout.”
***
Nadia stood in the shadows of an old boxcar at Glaskov Station. The official Allied delegations had all moved on, but foreign troops still occupied Glaskov. The main tracks of the Trans-Siberian line were closely guarded, but the sidings weren’t, not always. Across the river, Irkutsk was under siege law—anyone caught outside could be killed on sight. That wasn’t so different from being part of a labor battalion. She’d faced that before. This time, at least, she had her brother and three others with her, people she trusted. And in her pocket, she carried a grenade. She’d never had that in the labor camps. And Glaskov wasn’t under Revkom’s control, not completely, so they were likely to get a warning before anyone fired at them.
Tanya waited along the track, ahead of where Nikolai, Sokolov, and Fedorov planned to move the boxcar. Nadia waited behind. Her role was simply to make sure no one approached from that direction. The whistled trill she and Nikolai had used in the woods of Lavanda Selo would serve as warning should anyone appear.
The wind howled through the deserted siding, shifting snow and making the ice of the river creak. Would she live to see spring? She could hardly remember what it was like to be completely warm. Nor could she recall how it felt to be completely safe.
Nikolai and the other men worked to move the boxcar. They wedged levers under the wheels, budging it an inch or two at a time. Once they built some momentum, they’d push it, aided by the slight slope of the terrain. And if they moved the boxcar far enough away, the owner might not find it again until after the gold had been hidden to await the White Army’s arrival.